


Movie Night

by bitterglitter



Series: Spooky Shadowhunters [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Background Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Halloween, Movie Night, Pillow & Blanket Forts, SO GAY, Sickfic, clary and izzy are really gay in this guys, tw: vomit mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8352502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterglitter/pseuds/bitterglitter
Summary: “Aren’t you suppose to be at the party?” Isabelle asks, still taking in everything, scooting closer to Clary. She holds out her arm, and offering. 
Clary’s smile widens. She ducks down so Isabelle can wrap her arm, and in extension her blanket, around her. Isabelle rests her cheek against Clary’s shoulder and Clary’s arm wraps around her waist in return. “I am at the party. I wasn’t just going to leave you on your own on Halloween, Izzy."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Getting sick on a holiday sucks. It sucks even more when you get sick on a holiday and end up having to miss a party you and your girlfriend have been looking forward to for weeks.





	

“This fucking sucks!” Isabelle has the childish urge to kick something, but she’s already kicked Raphael’s coffee table and her toes are still throbbing. With a groan, she slides down the couch until she’s lying on her side. Her face is pressing into a rather soft blanket and she tilts her head to rub her face against it. 

“Gross,” she hears Jace say. She opens an eye to see him walking out of Simon’s room. Thankfully, he has jeans and a shirt on this time. “You’re gonna get snot all over that.” 

Isabelle sticks her tongue out, narrowly getting it back in her mouth before sneezing. Biting her tongue off would just be the cherry on top of this horrible day. “Shut up. Get me some cold medicine or something.” 

“I think you’ll survive until Alec gets here.” Jace grins, but he still walks over and sits down next to her. She sighs happily when he starts rubbing his hand up and down her arm, soothingly.

“Alec is coming to pick you up?” Magnus leans out of the kitchen to ask. Raphael and Simon’s apartment is just small enough that every conversation easily travels from room to room. 

“Not again. _ ”  _ Raphael groans. She can hear him set down a rather heavily bottle in the kitchen. “Either ask him out or keep it in your pants while he’s here. After dealing with Simon and his stupid crush for months on end, I’m not in the mood.” 

“You’re  _ never  _ in the mood for love, Raphael. You wouldn’t understand what me and Alec have.” Magnus gives an overly dreamy sigh. His voice gets closer as he approaches and then Isabelle can see a ringed hand place a few pills of medicine and a glass of water on the table. Screw whatever anyone else may say, Magnus Bane is a  _ saint,  _ Isabelle thinks as she weakly reaches out for the glass. 

“You have to sit up, Izzy.” Jace mutters, helping push her up and keep her up when her head swims. He reaches over and gets the glass and pills for her, her protests too weak to affect him. In the background Magnus and Raphael are still arguing as she drinks her water. 

“What you and Alec have? A handful of awkward conversations and one event of drunk cuddling?” The sneer is evident in Raphael’s tone. 

“See? You just don’t get it.” Magnus hums happily. 

“You all are making my headache worse.” Isabelle groans, falling over once again to lie on her side. Only this time she lands on Jace’s shoulder. Her brother is so nice and wonderful, she thinks as she snuggles into his side even more. So wonderful and caring and-

There’s a knock at the door and thank god, her savior has arrived. She wants to get up and have Alec take her home immediately to Clary, but her legs don’t seem to be in working order. Instead, it’s Magnus’ heels that click against the floor as he hurries over to the door. 

“Do you think I could convince him to come back? Join in on movie night?” Magnus asks as he walks. He’s using the tone he has when he starts planning a party, already planning how the night will go if Alec says yes no doubt. 

“No!” Raphael shouts as Magnus pulls open the door. 

Isabelle’s exhaustion keeps her from actually looking to see if it’s her brother at the door. But the loud, clumsy stuttering that occurs when Magnus opens the door confirms that it is actually him. It’s a shame, it’s usually pretty cute to see her stoic brother fall apart because of a pretty boy. 

“Alexander.” Magnus does end up having to cut him off because Isabelle’s sure it’s been at least half a minute and Alec hasn’t gotten a single sentence out. “Come in. Your sister is resting on the couch.” 

Alec gives a shaky thanks before the heavy sound of his boots echo throughout the room. He rounds the corner into the living room and to the front of the couch. A hint of blush is still left on his face and his eyes are wide, panicked. His gaze follow a line from the hallway that leads to the kitchen before looking down and hissing in a tight voice at Jace. “You didn’t tell me Magnus would be here!” 

Jace grins up at him, eyes lighting up wickedly. “I didn’t? Oh no, guess it slipped my mind.” 

He still looks on edge, eyes darting nervously to the kitchen, where she’s sure Magnus returned to, and back to them. Isabelle can already predict the next few minutes filled with arguing and knows it can be put on hold, so she cuts off any accusations her brother can throw Jace’s way. “I’m sick,” is the only thing she whimpers out. 

Its an actual physical reaction in Alec. There’s something almost fascinating how quickly Alec shifts from pretty boy overload to protective big brother mode. He shifts back into focus and keeps his gaze directly on her. “I heard. Are you still throwing up? Has it gotten any worse?” 

She shakes her head, but that causes the world to tilt so she quickly stops. “Nu-uh. I can’t really breath, though.” 

Alec nods, hazel eyes softening in sympathy. “Clary said she’s out getting some medicine. I grabbed your sick blanket from my closet before I left.” 

Her sick blanket is a fuzzy, purple blanket that probably should have been thrown away half a decade ago. But it’s a blanket her parents bought when she was little, so she’s never been able to let it go. It was huge then and she loved it so much that she still wraps herself in it whenever she gets sick. It was probably at Alec’s house from the last time they both got the flu and decided suffering together would be better than alone. It’s now that Isabelle decides that Alec is her favorite brother ever. 

“Hey!” Jace turns to look down at her, lips jutted out in a pout. Oh. Did she say that outloud?

“Yes.” Alec quickly answers. “Nice to see you’ve reached the point where you have no filter. Always fun. Time to get you home and in bed.” 

Alec reaches a hand down to help pull her off the couch. She’s basically dead weight at this point, none of her limbs wanting to co-operate. “Will Clary be there? ‘M always so happy when she’s in bed when I get home.” 

“Didn’t need to know that, Izzy.” Jace pipes up. 

She glares down at Jace as Alec straightens her up. “You never shut up about your sex life with Simon-”

A cry of surprise from their bedroom rings out. 

“-you can handle me menting it. Plus, I was talking about  _ cuddling. _ ”

Jace does have the decency to look a bit apologetic. “Sorry, Izzy.” 

“But it  _ is  _ also nice when I come home to sex. Especially when-”

Jace yells out something half unintelligible about her stopping and she can hear Alec mutter, “ _ thanks,  _ Jace. Why the fuck do any of you like talking about your sex lives?” 

Someone tuts from the kitchen. The three siblings each turn their heads to see Magnus leaning against the entrance, looking both disapproving and amused at the same time. He’s trying to school his features into a frown, but his lips keep twitching with the need to smile. “Now, now, boys. That’s hardly a way to treat someone who’s sick.” 

Alec’s grip tightens a touch on Isabelle’s arm. He coughs, turning his head to look towards the front door. “Right. Sorry. Come on, Isabelle. Clary should be home soon.” 

Jace stands up before Alec can start dragging her up and pulls her into a quick hug. “Call me tomorrow or something, okay? So I know you aren’t dead.” She nods and he smiles back. 

“Feel better, dear Isabelle. I’m sorry you have to miss our party.” Magnus sighs, looking rather upset about it. She had been really excited about this, she had helped him plan it. 

“Party?” Alec asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Magnus’ eyes light up. “Oh, we’re just watching a few movies. You should stop by if you get a chance, Alexander.” 

“Stop flirting!” Raphael scolds from the kitchen. He appears behind Magnus, bottle of wine in hand and whisk in the other. “Let the poor girl go home and stop harassing her brother… Feel free to harass the other brother until he leaves, though.” 

“Rude!” Jace gasps at Raphael, who shrugs indifferently in response. 

Isabelle groans in pain, stomach flopping from standing so long. 

“Right, right, sorry.” Alec speaks in a rush. He lets Isabelle slump over on him as he guides her through the living room and out the door. Several goodbyes nip at her shoes as they walk out. She wants to respond, but her head isn’t exactly up for forming sentences. Or words. The two siblings head out of the apartment complex in silence. 

She does manage to get in the car by herself without getting too dizzy, but when she sinks into the passenger seat she’s not sure she’ll have the energy to get back up. Even just shifting her head to the side takes too much out of her; but Alec had gotten in the car the same time she had and hasn’t started it up yet and she wants to see what’s taking so long. He sits in his seat, gipping the wheel, staring down at his lap. 

“...Alec?” Isabelle asks, frowning in concern. 

Suddenly, he finches and his face lights up pink. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He mutters, shifting the car into drive. Her stomach lurches as they pull away from the curb and onto the street. She wraps her arms around her stomach in response, as if that would stop her from getting sick. Alec spares a glance over before letting one hand fall from the wheel. He holds it out, an offer that she gladly takes. Her grip is a little too tight if his wince when she grabs his hand is anything to go by. 

The buildings of New York blur around her as they drive, more than she knows they should. Each bump the car jumps over makes her feel like her stomach is trying to do the same. What usually is a ten minute drive feels like ten years. 

Alec gives her hand a light squeeze before he lets go to park in front of her apartment complex. She sighs with relief when the engine cuts out. It’s a bit more tricky getting out than it was getting in, she almost topples Alec and herself over in the process. The path up into the building is much easier and Isabelle silently thanks every god she’s ever read about that the elevator is working today. 

About halfway up to her floor her vision starts to go shaky and the next time she opens her eyes she’s lying face first in her bed. She’s looking towards the window, away from the dor, and all the lights are off. Huh.  _ Did I teleport?  _ She wonders, moving her head so the pillow doesn’t suffocate her.  _ Simon will be so jealous I have superpowers now.  _

“She  _ what _ ?” Isabelle hears a muffled shout from behind the door. Oh. Are people here?

“It’s fine! I made sure she is; she’s just got a cold. Did you bring the medicine?” That must be Alec. Did she teleport Alec here too? Nice, a superpower she can share. Best Halloween ever.

So, of course, right after that train of thought, a coughing fit hits. She curls in on herself, each cough feeling like what she imagines nails dragging against your lungs feel like. Like nails on a chalkboard, only a fuckton worse. 

“I practically bought the whole store.” The first voice says before the room is flooded with light. Isabelle flinches, burying her face back into the pillow. “Oh- fuck. Aec, turn off the lights. No, no, the hallway one.” 

The bed beside her dips and a hand starts running through her hair. A content sigh escapes her lips and she sinks further into the bed. There’s already a blanket over her, but she can feel extra weight added to it; not a lot, just enough to notice. She shivers and pulls the blanket closer around her before turning her head the other way to see who’s joined her in bed. 

Clary’s leaning against the headboard of the bed. Her red hair is tied back into a bun and she’s still wearing her painting smock from work. She’s beautiful and Isabelle loves her so much, she wants to tell her just that, but another cough cuts her off. 

Clary’s gaze is soft, but her mouth is set in a frown turning her whole expression into a contradiction. “You told me you weren’t sick.” 

Isabelle nods. “I wasn’t. Am now.” Clary rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but her frown starts to crack. 

“Jace told me she threw up all the sudden.” Alec pipes up. She glances up to see him standing in the doorway. “Then I guess everything else hit at once.”

Isabelle nods again. 

“It’s only been four hours.” Clary sighs, fingers slowly untangling a knot in Isabelle’s hair. She looks back down at her. “How could you get sick in less than four hours? You have to take better care of yourself, babe.” 

Even though she feels like she’s literally about to melt into the bed, she grins. “Why should I if I know my pretty girlfriend will take care of me?”

“Your pretty girlfriend had to leave work early to take care of you.” 

“And  _ your _ pretty girlfriend appreciates it.” 

Clary laughs at this, face lighting up even though there’s clearly still worry in her features. “I would hope so.” 

“You guys are gross.” Alec interrupts them. “Flirting while sick. Gross.” Both girls turn to glare at him. His expression is blank, but even a sick Isabelle knows when her big brother is teasing her. 

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have Magnus as a pretty boyfriend to take care of you.” Isabelle shoots back. Clary lets out a surprised giggle. 

She takes the almost full minute Alec spends sputtering to push herself up so she can roll over onto her back. It snuggles her right up against Clary’s leg, which she quickly latches on to. Her purple sick blanket has been tugged up so high it’s tickling her chin. 

By now Alec’s face is completely flushed red and he’s lucky he’s gotten half a sentence out about how Magnus may be pretty but boyfriend? No way. He suddenly cuts himself off in the middle of his ramble, presses his lips together, and lets out a long breath through his nose. 

“Isabelle,” Clary laughs out her name. “Stop teasing. You need sleep instead.” 

“But it’s so fun…” Isabelle pouts, shifting so she can press her face against Clary’s thigh. The jeans she’s wearing are kind of scratchy, but it’s more comfortable than the rest of the bed. 

Alec gives her his best unimpressed look. “For once I agree with Clary.” Clary gives a gasp that quickly dissolves into quiet giggles. His face takes on a softer quality. “Seriously, Izzy. Rest. Get better. I’ll call you in the morning to check up on you.” 

“M’kay. Love you.” Isabelle sighs, eyes starting to drop closed. Sleep sounds nice right about now. 

“Love you too, Izzy.” Alec says before she hears the bedroom door close. Distantly, she hears the front door open then follow suit. 

They lie in a comfortable silence; Isabelle steadily drifting off and Clary continuously running her hand through her hair. It’s so peaceful that Isabelle just about forgets that her entire body hurts. And then she’s jerked back into awareness by Clary untangling herself from their mess of limbs and getting out of bed. Well. That’s probably the worst thing to happen all day. 

Isabelle cracks an eye open just in time to see Clary stretch, hands high above her head. She reaches out to pull her back in. “Come back.” 

“I will.” Clary looks over her shoulder to smile down at her. It’s beautiful. Wonderful. It’d make Isabelle’s insides warm and fuzzy if they already didn’t feel that way. “But first some water to cool you down. The more fluids the better.” 

“I’m fine, honestly.” She juts her lower lip out, hoping the combination of puppy dog eyes and how sick she looks will work in getting Clary back here to snuggle. She manages to pull herself up into a sitting position; it makes her feel like someone’s just punched her in the gut. This doesn’t stop Clary from turning around and walking out the door, but it does allow Isabelle to watch her round the corner into the kitchen. 

With a pitiful groan, Isabelle reaches down to tug the blanket up to her shoulders. “Fuck getting sick.” 

Isabelle Lightwood doesn’t get sick easy. Her immune system must be made of steel or something because she can remember every single time she’s gotten sick. Hell, Alec got sick more often than she ever did and he is the most careful out of all of them about stuff like this. But when Isabelle gets sick, she gets  _ sick.  _ All the symptoms at once, out of nowhere. And violent symptoms, at that. She already knows she’ll have to end up staying in bed the rest of the week, hopefully not spending all her time sleeping off her fever like usual. 

Out of all the days she could’ve, she ends up getting sick on Halloween. Perfect. Clary and her first Halloween together to boot. Well, their first Halloween as a couple together.

Isabelle clenches her teeth to stop another incoming coughing fit, but that just accomplishes it hurting more than it would have. She isn’t sure if the timing is perfect or if Clary heard it all the way from the kitchen, but next thing Isabelle knows Clary is hurrying in with a tall glass of water. She slips back into bed and holds it out with one hand, the other coming up to rub soothing circles on Isabelle’s back as she coughs. As soon as she can take a breath she takes the water and drinks as much as fast as possible. 

Her throat burns and it feels like she’s about to start sneezing, which would be just a  _ fantastic  _ addition, but her coughs start to die down. Slowly her body calms down until she’s able to sit there and take more reasonable sips of water. 

“Better?” Clary asks, reaching up to tuck a curl behind Isabelle’s ear. Her face softens as Isabelle mutely nods, hand moving to cup the back of her head. With her free hand she takes the now empty cup and places it on the bedside table before guiding Isabelle’s head to rest against her chest, tucked under her chin. Isabelle closes her eyes and lets out a sigh, content to stay here forever. “That's good. You should get some rest now.” 

“M’kay…” Isabelle snuggles closer to Clary if that’s even possible at this point. By now she’s practically in her lap -- not that she’s complaining. She’s just about relaxed when a realization floats to the front of her mind. “Oh!” She shouts, jerking back, just narrowly avoiding ramming her head into Clary’s jaw. 

Clary flinches back, clearly startled by Isabelle’s sudden movement. Isabelle’s vision swims slightly, also not expecting the movement. “The party!” Clary’s expression only gets more confused. “We were supposed to go.” 

“Izzy, you just came back from Simon’s place. You’re too sick to go.” Clary tells her slowly, as if that will help it sink in fully. 

Isabelle rolls her eyes, knowing if she nods the spinning will only get worse. “I  _ know.  _ I have a cold, not a concussion.” Clary sticks her tongue out at Isabelle in response. “But you were excited about it. You should at least go.” 

“Without you? Why would I want to go alone?”

“To spend time with our friends.” Isabelle shrugs. “Just cause I can’t have a nice time doesn’t mean you can’t.” 

Clary shakes her head, several curls falling from her bun. She looks almost offended that Isabelle would suggest something like that, eyebrows scrunched together in the most adorable way. “It won’t be fun without you.” 

Isabelle raises an eyebrow in disbelief, but the effect is ruined when it’s interrupted by a sneeze. “You’ve been dying to go. Magnus promised to break out the classics and you  _ squealed  _ when he showed you his list.” 

“I did not squeal.” Clary mutters. Instead of looking at Isabelle, she’s staring down at the stitching in their bedsheets, lips pressed together in a tight line. Her lips twitch, fighting off a smile. 

“You totally did. It was adorable.” Isabelle gives a weak grin. “Don’t worry about me, you should go. I’ll probably just sleep the whole night. I won’t even notice you’re gone.” 

Clary looks sceptical, but she’s also picking at the paint splatter on her jeans and her eyes glance towards the door every so often. Yeah. She really wants to go. She’s always been awfully terrible at lying to Isabelle. 

“Okay,” Clary drags out the word. “I do want to go. Magnus promised to beat Simon’s collection… but I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep.” 

Isabelle smiles. It’s not wide and cheerful like it usually would’ve been, instead it feels like it droops and hangs just on the edge of being classified as a smile. Her face must be too tired to put in the full effort. She lays back down next to Clary and pulls up her sick blanket up to wrap around herself. “Sounds good to me. I’m exhausted anyway.” 

“You look it.” Clary says, giving a teasing grin when Isabelle glares up at her. A loud laugh rings through the room when Isabelle weakly hits her thigh in retaliation. “Love you.” 

Isabelle falls asleep surrounded by warmth and with Clary’s hand brushing the hair out of her face.

* * *

 

Isabelle wakes up to complete darkness. 

As her eyes adjust to the room around her, she finds the bedroom door has been closed and the curtains are still drawn. The bed next to her is cold, only a small indent as to where Clary laid is left. She’s tangled herself up in her blanket, fully cocooning herself inside. 

Not the best way to wake up, but not the worst. 

Honestly, she thinks as she stares at the closed door, she’s glad Clary went to the party. One of them might as well have a good time tonight. But, as the minutes pass the silent apartment grows steadily louder and louder until the quiet rings in her ears like church bells. She needs some background noise, and now. Even the usual city ambiance seems to have faded into a static buzz in her ears. 

She pushes herself up, surprised at how much easier it is to do than just a few hours earlier. That isn’t to say it doesn't hurt like a bitch, but at least now she doesn’t think she’s dying. Climbing out of bed isn’t too bad, but the hardwood floor is cold against her feet and makes her whole body shiver. 

Blindly, in the dark she heads for a dresser. She manages to find an old, worn hoodie and pair of sweatpants; much more comfortable than her low cut shirt and skinny jeans. Once she’s changed she goes back to the bed for her sick blanket. She wraps it around her shoulders, pulling it up just enough to make a makeshift hood. 

When she opens the bedroom door even more silence greets her, but at the end of the hallway she can see a faint amber glow. Maybe Clary left a light on? It’s understandable, Isabelle wouldn’t trust herself to stumble around in the dark when sick either. 

Her footsteps echo in the hall as she heads down it and as she gets closer to the end she can tell the light is coming from the living room instead of the kitchen. Odd, distorted shadows are spread out against the walls. Jagged objects reach out of swooping ones and Isabelle has no idea what she’s looking at; is this some fever driven hallucination?

It wouldn’t be surprising. Something similar happened when she was eight. 

Isabelle plans in her head as she walks closer to the light: grab some water, a few packages of crackers, raid the living room for spare pillow sand blanket,s turn off all the lights, and pass out for as long as possible. Just the way she usually spends her sick days. Part of her wonders how Clary being here will disrupt her usual routine. If anything she’ll probably just make Isabelle stay home an extra day to make sure she’s not sick anymore. The thought makes her smile as she rounds the corner. 

And her smile melts into a confused frown as she stares at the scene in her living room. Or the scene where her living room  _ used  _ to be. It had been such a nicely put together living room too, but now instead of their furniture and decor she can only see blankets. There’s so many, from their big brown one to a small pink one that hardly covers one of them. She even spots a quilt Jocelyn gave Clary for her birthday. They’re hung up to cover the entire room, edges held up on shelves and behind chairs, a small opening in the side. 

Okay, Isabelle has weird dreams. She has seen weird things when sick. This is a whole new, unexpected level. 

“... Clary?” Isabelle calls out, trying to bend down to peer into the blanket fort. She’s assuming that Clary is the one responsible, because she can’t imagine someone specifically breaking into her apartment just to cover her living room in blankets. Maybe Jace.  _ Maybe.  _

The blankets start to shift and sway and then the opening in the side splits open. Isabelle sees red curls peek out before she can see Clary’s face. Clary glances around the room before looking up at Isabelle with a blindingly happy smile. “You’re awake! Wow, you really do have great timing, like, all the time. Come on, come in!”  She holds open the door, waving her other hand wildly towards her. 

“Is there a reason you’ve turned our living room into a blanket utopia?” Isabelle asks as she kneels down to crawl into the fort. 

Clary scoots back as Isabelle moves forward, snorting at Isabelle’s question. “No, I just thought it’d add to the decor. Thought our apartment could use a makeover.” 

Once Isabelle’s inside she sits back to take a look around. Clary has not only hung up blankets, but strung up fairy lights along the inside, twinkling a soft yellow. The couch is covered with and surrounded by a mountain of pillows. Isabelle didn’t even know they own this many pillows. On the opposite end of the for there’s the TV, on but waiting for someone to pick something to watch, with dozens of movies stacked up on the floor in front of it. Between the TV and couch is a giant bowl of candy. 

“Aren’t you suppose to be at the party?” Isabelle asks, still taking in everything, scooting closer to Clary. She holds out her arm, and offering. 

Clary’s smile widens. She ducks down so Isabelle can wrap her arm, and in extension her blanket, around her. Isabelle rests her cheek against Clary’s shoulder and Clary’s arm wraps around her waist in return. “I  _ am  _ at the party. I wasn’t just going to leave you on your own on Halloween, Izzy. Just because you can’t join the others at their party, that doesn’t mean we can’t have one. So I kind of,” she gestures with her free hand around them. 

Isabelle forces herself to blink just so she isn’t staring. Her head starts really processing it and she blinks again. And again. And another time, just trying to get rid of the wetness forming in her eyes. Clary’s smile is starting to crack, worry creeping in at her silence. Isabelle doesn’t let that happen for long. She practically launches herself at Clary and they tumble to the ground. 

They’re both laughing as they land, Clary’s laugh more breathless than Isabelle’s. 

Her blanket lands around the both of them as she wraps her arms around Clary and  _ squeezes,  _ nuzzling into the space between her neck and shoulder. “Have I ever told you how amazing of a girlfriend you are?” 

“I wouldn’t mind hearing it more often. But if you don’t let go you won’t have a girlfriend to say that too.” Clary laughs louder this time, and yeah, it’s definitely more wheezy than laughy. 

Isabelle giggles and loosens her grip. She stays snuggled there though, still giggling, until her throat starts to itch with a familiar sensation. She pulls away and sits up just in time to start coughing into the crook of her elbow. Right. Still sick. 

Clary pushes herself up so she can pat at Isabelle’s back. Out of nowhere Isabelle’s coughs turn to sneezes and Clary, surprisingly prepared, pulls out a box of tissues for her that was hidden next to the pillows. She manages to thank her briefly between sneezes. 

Once she’s calmed down Clary moves over to the movies. “What do you want to watch? I got some horror, some bad horror that should be relabeled as comedy, Disney movies, a few cartoons.” She holds up several cases. Isabelle spots  _ Halloweentown  _ and  _ Saw  _ before Clary goes back to the pile. 

“Maybe start off soft? A Disney movie sounds nice.” Isabelle suggest as she moves back to rest against the massive amount of pillows, cradling the tissue box close to her chest. 

Clary beams and rummages through the pile. “Then that’s where we start. Now animated or live action…” 

She starts to list off the titles she has available; they manage to pick one after only a couple minutes of debate. One of the only perks of being sick is Isabelle gets more say in which movie they watch first. Once the DVD is in Clary joins Isabelle over in the pillow pile. She has the bowl of candy in hand and drapes Isabelle’s blanket over the both of them as the movie starts. 

* * *

 

When Isabelle wakes up this time it isn’t dark and she isn’t alone. Light from the windows is streaming inside, though it’s muted by the fabric of the blankets. They had turned off the fairy lights halfway through the night when they got the actually scary movies. She and Clary are tangled together, legs twined up in each other, Clary’s head against her chest, arms tight against her waist, and Isabelle’s arm draped across Clary’s stomach. 

Honestly, Isabelle probably would’ve been asleep much longer if not for that goddamn fucking annoying  _ pounding  _ at the door. Even Clary, who is an absolute nightmare to wake up, groans and tries to hide her face further into Isabelle’s chest. 

“Sto’ it…” She mumbles, tightening her hold on Isabelle. Her heart stutters in her chest.  

“Izzy? Clary?” Jace calls from the door. Of course it’s Jace. “At least let me know you guys aren’t dead!” 

All Isabelle wants to do is go back to sleep. Her nose still feels stuffed up and her stomach is iffy at best. But she can’t do that with what sounds like her brother slowly but surely breaking down the front door. With a resigned sigh, she pushes herself up, her body protesting in aches at leaving such a comfy position. She dislodges herself from Clary’s hold, ignoring the soft sounds of protest, and crawls out of the fort. 

The light is much brighter outside the fort than inside. Isabelle almost staggers back inside, squinting as her eyes adjust. What time is  _ it _ ? Scratch that -- she doesn’t even want to know. 

Hoping if she hurries with reassuring Jace she is in fact alive she can go back to sleep a little longer, her pace quickens on her way to the door. She unlocks it and pulls it open with a glare. Jace’s hand almost collides with her face as a result, but she doesn’t flinch. “I’m too sick to yell at you. I’m fine. Let me sleep.” 

Simon steps out from behind Jace, holding up a paper bag. Behind him she can see Magnus and Alec, softly whispering to each other. Simon holds the bag out in front of Jace, waving it back and forth slightly. “We brought bribes. Admittedly, these are also to make sure you guys have actually eaten something.” 

“Are those pastries?” Isabelle asks, tilting her head. If she could smell anything at the moment, she’s sure she’d be able to smell how sweet they are. 

“Pastries?” Clary calls from the living room, voice groggy from sleep. 

Isabelle steps to the side so Jace and Simon can come in. Simon hurries past and into the kitchen while Jace stays behind to press his palm against Isabelle’s forehead like she’s a little kid with a fever. She wants to be annoyed, but the concern is actually pretty sweet. 

“It was my idea.” Alec says, offering a small smile before looking at Jace. Jace nods, dropping his hand, and Alec relaxes slightly. Jace turns to join Simon in the kitchen. 

“Are you feeling better?” Magnus asks, stepping into the apartment by Alec’s side. She glances down and sees their hands are linked. Oh, she’ll have to remember to ask about that later. “Getting plenty of rest and all that?” 

“Kind of.” She waves her hand in a sort of gesture. “And I did get plenty of rest after the movie marathon. At least now I don’t feel at risk of throwing up all over your shoes.” 

“I’d say plenty of rest. You haven’t been answering any of our calls.” Alec raises an eyebrow. Isabelle’s about to protest, but he cuts her off. “It’s one in the afternoon, Izzy.” 

“Oh. Wait, we slept that long?” She asks, only slightly horrified. 

“Isabelle!” Clary calls from the kitchen, apparently summoned by the promise of sweets. “Stop Jace from eating everything! Simon,  _ no! _ ”

“I told him not to-” Alec groans, letting go of Magnus’ hand to hurry towards the kitchen. Magnus shoots Isabella wink before following. Isabelle tags along closely behind, stopping in the doorway to observe the scene. 

Everyone’s crowded around the island in the middle of the kitchen, pastries spread out along the surface. Simon is leaning back against the counter, trying his best to hold a muffin out of Jace’s reach. Alec is threatening to break them up if they don’t stop it, and Magnus is pulling out his phone to film the event. Clary looks over and spots Isabelle in the doorway. She bounces over, offering Isabelle a plain croissant, before leaning over to peck her lips. The kiss tastes like sugar. 

“Ew.” Isabelle wrinkles her nose, but she can’t help smiling. “I have sick germs, you know.” 

Clary hums, pressing herself against Isabelle’s side. “Don’t worry. I love you anyway.” 


End file.
